Review: House of Several Stories at Austin Playhouse

Which is not to say that Lane—or Streep for that matter— are out to upstage their fellows. Au contraire. For among her other charms, Lane certainly knows how to play well with others. And for their part, her compadres in HOSS do an excellent job of delivering. For nearly all of Act I and a decent portion of Act II, we are focused on Sue and her adult children—Bastian (Martin Burke) and Rissa (Meredith McCall), both really gifted in their own right. The “kids” are home for what is most likely Thanksgiving though, as the story—rather several stories—unfold(s), and truth is revealed to be a malleable thing, perhaps it isn’t Thanksgiving at all.

And that is the predominant theme in HOSS-- an examination of dysfunction, perception and misperception, truth and/or lies, with all roads leading to life’s perpetually unanswered question: What is real and true here?

There’s that old conceit—ask several witnesses to each describe an accident they’ve just seen, and you’ll get as many different answers as witnesses. In HOSS, family-of-origin serves as a none-too-subtle metaphor for what is in real life, for so many, the greatest and most enduring wreck of all, one that we spend the rest of forever futilely trying to recall accurately in a quest to explain our broken parts. Such is the case with the Fullers—as Sue and Bastian and Rissa recount tales of their past together, sometimes admitting they don’t really remember the event, but merely the story of that event—a big nod toward the way parents can, by design or error, mismanage the minds of their progeny.

Echo is an effect Boulanger enlists throughout the show as characters repeat each other’s utterances, sometimes immediately, and other times as much-later call back. Echo is present in more than the dialogue—watch for the ways mother and daughter echo each other’s lives (right down to their pinky rings) and watch how Rissa and Abigail also echo each other’s lives (right down to their tacky silver headbands and fuck-me red pumps). Other echoes abound, including that of childhood sibling dynamic, which Rissa and Bastian engage in frequently, coming close to fisticuffs often enough, despite being in their thirties. Because, you know, it’s not that you can never go home again, it’s that you can never go home and be treated like the adult you’ve maybe become, because instead you will be swallowed by the locked-in perception of who you were then. Sue, with her heavy boozing and egging-on nature is hardly the sort of peacemaker she might be, considering she’s the mom and all.

Her mothering skills are called further into question by the arrival of a baby that may or may not be real. Funny thing is, Lane is such a stunning force that even though the “baby” is clearly “played” by a doll, her ability to animate it offers a number of double take moments.

Kudos to Jason Amato’s moody lighting and Griffon Ramsey’s purposefully simplistic set which complement each other and add notable texture without ever overpowering the performance.

Boulanger wrote HOSS as his MA thesis while at Texas State, and the show was selected to play at the Kennedy Center in DC last spring—it was the first time a Texas State student received the National Student Playwriting Award. Clearly he is a gifted writer and here’s hoping he has a long run. That said, HOSS felt a little longish at the end, maybe with a bit too much explanation offered considering that Boulanger so purposefully strives to lead the audience through a house of mirrors. There were a number of spots, pre-ending, that felt like they were (or could have been) the ending but then, wait, there’s more… Or maybe that’s the point—that our stories never end, we just must keep giving them voice.

House of Several Stories runs through August 23rd at Austin Playhouse.